Love stands on the back of sacrefice
by daniebanaanie1999
Summary: Clarke Griffin, a 17-year-old student, moves into her new apartment. From the moment she gets there, her neighbours tell her rumours about a myserious girl that also lives in this apartment compex. Nobody know her name. They, one day, happen to meet and Clarke finds herself more intrueged than she's meant to be by this quiet girl with the name Lexa.
1. Chapter 1

It has been a really long day and Clarke really needs to catch some rest. With her lectures at eight in the morning until about one o'clock and her job almost immediately after, she has no energy left to do anything else but lie on the couch and relax. Her feet hurt and her spine aches, so it's a relief she can lay down on the couch. A strawberry smoothie in one hand and the remote of her relatively small TV in the other, she closes her eyes for a brief second and lets her sore muscles relax. It takes a while before she has regained enough energy to open them again, reminding herself that an episode of her favourite show will start any moment. Clarke turns on the TV and zaps channels until she finds BBC. Clarke can watch exactly two minutes of the episode before the bell rings. A big moan escapes her mouth as she drags herself on her feet again, takes the last sip of her smoothie and walks towards the door. The bell rings again.

"Yeah, yeah," she sighs, even though the person outside won't be able to hear her at all. "I'm coming."

She straightens her shirt and walks through the hall, up tot he door.  
Clarke opens it and-... there she is. The girl everybody has been warning her about.

From the moment she moved into this apartment complex, a week or two ago, my neighbours have told me the most ugly rumours about this 'weird' girl. The girl, apperiantely, never speaks. Doesn't ever say goodbye or hello, which is totally unacceptable, of course. Her clothes are mostly black, with only a few variations which include navy blue, crimson and dark green. Especially the make-up around her eyes is very present and as black as the dark pits of hell, which is scaring my naïve neighbours. Her voice is low and imminent and she uses to gaze at you like you're nothing more than dirt under her fancy black boots, her chin pointed up. The whole thing together gives them a reason to assume she's some sort of criminal. Otherwise she wouldn't look and act that way. Right?

"She always looks at me like she wants to eat me alive... Or at least harm me in a very illegal way!" Alison, the woman of three levels down once told Clarke. She knew it was a lie, since Alison had just told her how she never sees her leaving or entering the building a few minutes ago, let alone talk to her or catch her eyes. By the stories, Clarke doubted she would even look at Alison.

When she asked about the girl's name, Alison replied:

"I honestly don't know. And if you ask me, I don't even want to know! Just like every other decent person in this building. Listen to me, Clarke, darling, you should stay away from her, you must be crazy to even seek contact with her. It's for your own safety, sweetie."

Clarke had just nodded, to please her, but she obviously didn't agree. To be honest, she became more and more curious to meet this mysterious stranger, who seems to dissapear into thin air everytime somebody comes close. No wonder she has never seen her or noticed before.

But today, she's standing at Clarke's doorstep. And for a moment, she couldn't hide her amazement by this sudden surprise. Because this girl is nothing like Alison had described. The girl's gaze is soft and hard at the same time. Closed, Clarke thinks. Her eyes reflect no emotion but they are observing me already. She neither wears as much make-up as Alison said she did. There, actually, are no hints of beauty products to be seen on her face.

"Hello," she says. Her voice is higher and more pure than Clarke'd imagined it would be. But then again, she imagined she'd be some sort of punk-rock chick with a leather jacket, a motorcycle, a half shaven head and black eye-shadow smudged all over her face.

After a few seconds of staring, Clarke snaps back into reality, by the realisation she may would want an answer back. The girl tilts her head a little to the left and curls the corners of her mouth up but only slightly, just enough to for Clarke to make out a polite smile, even though it fades quickly. Her casual brown hair runs in loose ringlets over her shoulders and two green eyes, as green as grass, are watching all of her moves.

"Oh hi," Clarke says, leaning against the doorframe, but almost trips over her own feet as she tries to make sure to look cool and chill. Quickly, she grabs the doorknob to keep herself from falling. A little frown slowly appears on her face as she watches her, and Clarke wonders what she might think. Well... maybe she doesn't even want to know, since it's probably not very positive.

"I'm Clarke," she introduces herself, to keep the conversation going. "Clarke Griffin."

Clarke offers her her hand to shake, but the girl doesn't respond. Her arms stay stiffly by her side and she doesn't move or makes any effrot to acknowledge the gesture. She just looks at her, her full lips pressed together. Awkwardly, Clarke takes her hand back and buries it in the pocket of her jeans.

Suddenly, her eyes grow even harder. The grass turns into two emeralds, as untouchable and cold as the gem itself. Slowly, her observing look melts from her face ans she raises her chin. She straightens her back, so she suddenly becomes a bit taller than Clarke is. She noticed a hint of arrogance in her gaze. It isn't the polite or curious anymore. It feels like she is going to, and defenitely will, succeed in unravelling all of Clarke's darkest secrets and weaknesses by just staring at me. Or probably already has. No doubt she's trying to intimidate and scare her. And even though she doesn't want to, Clarke shivers, and finally realizes exactly how the other people in the building feel whever they cross her in the hall downstairs or the staircase.  
Clarke tries to straighen her back as well, but it barely boosts her confidence. Even in a leather jacket and a whole gang to pretect her, she'd still be less impressive than her.

A cool wave pins her down to the ground. Clarke notices she can barely move, trapped in the stranger's hard eyes. It seems like the little smile she had just shown is rare and only a formality. She looks at Clarke like shew ill take none of my bullshit that is wasting her precious time. She wants to get to the point and handle the thing she came here for. There must be some sort of problem, right? Otherwise she would've never stopped by.

And Clarke is right.

"Your cat has invaded my apartment," the girl says, her voice as cold as her emerald eyes, saying the word 'invaded' disguested. As if little Jaha really has conqured her apartment. He probably just broke into it... Wait... Jaha broke into her apartment?

Clarke's cheeks turn bright red as soon as the realisation hits her face, and she places her hands in front of her mouth. Imagines of all the possible things that the stupid cat could have down flick in front of her eyes. Fuck...

"He has been there already quite a few times, but he won't leave this time," the brunette says, unforgivable.

That's when Clarke notices the dark red marks on her forearms, as well as in her neck. Her eyes widen. Immediately, she reaches out to her arm, instinctively wanting to take care of the injuries, like her mother would have. This time, it's her eye who widen, not Clarke's. Quickly, she steps back, protecting her neck by jerking her head away and staring at Clarke like she has just suggested to jump off a skyscraper together. Clarke blinks a few times and lets her tong run over her dry lips for a moment, realizing her mistake.

"Oh, I'm sorry," she murmers, not daring to meet the stranger's eyes. "It's just a habit.. to take care of injured people, you know?"

Her gaze idicates that she doesn't know and probably doesn't want to know, not really caring about her lousy excuse.

"I'm fine," she snaps at Clarke. "Now could you get your cat out of my apartment?"

Even though she expected it, the sudden change of her voice still scares Clarke. For a moment, she's afraid the other would lash out, but when she doesn't, she scrapes her throat and looks down, nodding quickly a few times.

"Yeah, yeah, okey. Fine," Clarke mumbles. "Where do you live?"

She turns around, with a little spin, and without speaking any more words, she leads me towards her apartment. Clarke doesn't dare to say anything to start up the conversation again and just follows her in silence, making sure she first locks her door - just in case - and puts the key the backpocket of her jeans. Her eyes focus on the soles of her boots, since the heels are ritmatically clicking against the wooden floor, the whole time in the same pace. It's calming, but the thought of what kind of tricks Jaha might've pulled out once he found his way into her apartment. Like all cats, he just does whatever pleases him at that moment and Clarke doubts he played the sweet-kitten-act on her. He must've ruined something.

They have to go up two stairs before we arrive at her apartment. She grabs a key and unlocks the door, first walking in herself and beckoning to Clarke when she notices she's waiting for her approval to come in. Without talking, she leads her to her living room. It takes a while to notice the brown cat though, since Clarke's way to intruged by the living room itself, which is an art piece of itself. And Clarke defentiely knows when to label something as art.

One of the four walls is bright green, as green as the girl's eyes, whereas another one is dark brown and the final two are white. A painting of the forest is hanging at one of the white walls and a stand, showing an impressive katana and dagger, is decorating the other. A white couch stands in the corner opposite of the large flat screen TV with a small coffee table in between. The floor is made of black marble which can almost reflect my face. A vase with white roses is standing on a table near a huge window, which provides a beautiful view over NYC. Tiny insects - or are those people? - craowl over the streets in one big mass and the huge skyscrapers arize at both sides of the window. The undergoing sun colours the sky bright orange and gives ther oom a calming expression.

Only when Jaha starts scraping its head at her shin bones, Clarke looks down. Immediately, she lifts him up and holds him in her arms before he can run off again and hide. In the mean time, the girl, who, Clarke has only just realized, hasn't even introduced herself, gets two ragged pieces of clothes behind the couch and hands them over to her. Clarke looks at the holes in the fabric, obviously done by cat's claws.

"Your cat has damaged my curtains," she says, with an unfogivable, hard look in her eyes. It reminds Clarke of iron, unbowable if not heated up, even though they have the colour of her living room's wall.

"Oh, that's pretty bad," she answers. "You know what? I'll give you a refund. I will give you the money for the curtains, with all my apologies. I promise Jaha will never sneak in again."

In response, the cat lays his ears flat in his neck and hisses at Clarke, like he's trying to say he will eventually find his way in if that's what he wants. The girl eyes both Clarke and the cat suspiciously and squints her eyes, trying to figure out of she's lying or not about the refund. A few seconds pass. Then, she nods approvingly and looks away. Clarke tilts her head a bit to the left. Jaha is moving in her arms, desperate to free himself from her hard grisp, but she won't let go. Clarke barely even notices, since she's captured in the soft features of the girl's face. Such a beauty, such a sweetness, and still she manages to scare the hell ouf ot her.

"You know what," Clarke starts. "I think I should go home and try to teach this ungrateful cat some manners."

_Like he's ever going to listen_, she thinks sarcastically. The brunette looks up at me and then nods, guiding me back to the front door. She opens it for her, a silent signal that Clarke should get out now, since they're obviously done. Clarke doesn't really dare to say anything else, afraid the other won't even reply or just gives her the cold glare like she did earlier. Why would you waste any breath on someone that doesn't want to talk or even look at you? Clarke softly shakes her head, disagreeing with herself, ereasing the thoughts from her head. Bellamy or Octavia would just turn around an dleave, it wouldn't be a hard decision from them. Raven would probably get a little annoyed as well and turn around as well, leaving without a goodbye. They can be ruthless if they want to be, but Clarke just can't do that. It's not like she isn't strong. She's a different kind of strong. Strong when she needs to be strong, like when she found out her mom was the reason her father died a few years ago, but soft and kind whenever she doesn't needs to be. She just can't leave with Jaha without saying anything. And it will make things even more awkward when she stops by the next time to drop off the money for the curtains. And she might, or might not be, kind of intrueged and fascinated by this mysterious stranger. This girl who can trap her with her emerald coloured eyes, even when she looks at her like she's nothing to her.

Clarke at least needs to know her name.

"Okey, then," the girl eventually adds as some sore of goodbye when Clarke stands in the opening of the front door, with the squirming cat in her arms. Her grip tightens around Jaha, which makes the cat hiss irritated at her. She doesnt'notices, because she caught her gaze again. But this time, she's the one to first look away, waiting for Clarke to leave her apartment. And Clarke almost does, but turns around at the very last moment.

"'Okey then', what's that?" Clarke asks her. She looks up, but doesn't look at me directly, avoiding my eyes. "Who are you anyway? People have been telling the most unreal stories about you since the moment I got here, but none of them seem to be true. I mean, sure you're mildly attractive and mysterious, but it gets kind of tiring after a while, you know."

For a moment, she gurls up the corners of her mouth into a little smile, and Clarke smiles back, relieved. This one isn't like the one at my door, fake and just politicies. Clarke thought she had really smiled back then, but that one seems stiff in comparement to the one she shows now. Sadly, it's leaving her face way too soon and her emotionless expression returns, shutting off all the emotion that Clarke's little joke might've caused. But her eyes twinkle, and that's new.

"Lexa," she says. "My name is Lexa."

"Well, nice to meet you, Lexa," Clarke replies, as a grin appears on her face. She sticks out her hand, like I did before, but this time, Lexa takes it and shakes.

* * *

_Well, this is my first Clexa fic, so I hope you like it. This is going to be a multichaptered fanfiction, although it won't be really long. _

_This first chapter is based on this post: _

post/114021130802/clexa-au-lexa-returns-clarkes-cat-after-it


	2. Chapter 2

Just before Clarke walks around the corner, her head turns towards Lexa's direction and her smile appears on her face again. Lexa manages to pull up the corners of her mouth as well and smiles back at her, a little stiff in comparement to Clarke, but it's not nothing. Clarke dissapears around the corner, with her struggling, miauwing cat still in her arms. Her eyes stay fixated on the same spot for a moment, until a sudden movement in the corner of her eyes catches her attention. Immediately, Lexa lets her eyes roll in her eye sockets once she sees a huge smile displayed on Anya's face. Her friend casually leans against the frame of the door that leads to the stairs and wiggles with her eyebrows.  
"Shof of, Anya," Lexa bites at her, in Trigedasleng. It is supposed to be warning, but her smile betrays she doesn't mean it like that. Anya notices the hint and chuckles. And even if Lexa would mean it, she would never ever shut up at her command.  
With a little nonchalance, Anya straightens her back and pulls her eyebrows up in a questioning look. Lexa sighs and she shakes her head a couple of times. She knows what Anya wants to know, and she won't give her that pleasure so easily. Anya looks at her and Lexa doesn't look away, even though her gaze is full of questions. She keeps a straight face, not letting her facade down.  
Lexa beckons her best friend and Anya steps foreward. She has never needed an invitation to come in, they are best friends. Yet, at every visit, she waits paitentely until Lexa let her come in. After all this time, she still doesn't know why Anya behaves like that. They've been friends for years, best friends even. And before that Anya has been her mentor, her guider. They know eachother more than anyone else. And yet, this behaviour is still unfamiliar and weird to Lexa. But it doesn't really matter, does it?

Lexa turns around and walks back to the living room. She suits herself on the white sofa and place one leg over the other. Anya closes the door as she steps into the apartment, although she immediately walks towards the kitchen to get them some drinks before walking towards the living room herself. To Lexa's surprise, Anya returns with two wine glasses and a fancy bottle of Gallo. This time it's her turn to raise her eyebrows questionable at Anya's choice of beverage. It usually is water or a diet coke, rarely wine. Lexa can't help but to eye her suspiciously.  
"Is there an occasion? A holiday I forgot?" she asks her. Anya sits down next to Lexa and pours the red liquid into both of the glasses with a steady hand. She hands one to her and she takes a little sip.  
"Nothing special," Anya murmers. She smiles pleasantly at her and Lexa immediately senses there's something wrong. Anya's huge smile, her great mood and the fact that she tries to make her relax by persuading her to drink alcohol is way to suspicious to happen by accident at the same time. No, she knows this behaviour. Anya either needs money or something else or is going to ask about Clarke. And usual, she's quite right.

Anya puts her glass down and takes her brown leather jacket off, tossing it over an armchair. She crosses her legs as well and lets her elbow rest on the bank handrail. Her mouth curls up into a smile that betrays she's up to something. And Lexa is probably not going to like it.  
"So," Anya starts, as she takes another sip of her red wine. ! Oh no, here we go... ! "- who was that girl you just talked to? That blonde princess."

_Of course. Clarke._

A sigh escapes Lexa's mouth again. Maybe it really is better to get a little alcohol into her system before they start this conversation. She picks up the glass and takes a big sip, which makes Anya's eyes widen in surprise, before answering the question.  
"A newbie that just moved into the apartment two levels up," Lexa says, with a straight expression. Anya rises her right eyebrow and pouts her lips slightly as she thinks.  
"She seems cute."  
Lexa squints her eyes at her and has to suppress the urge to growl. This talk is taking a direction she doesn't want. If she's going to keep asking about Clarke, she sure as hell is going to start about her love life... Again...

Lately, Anya has discovered a new sort of sport: try-to-get-Lexa-a-girlfriend-ASAP. And she's quite bad at it because it never works. Anya has stalked every single woman Lexa has talked to or has only even glanced at while walking down the street. She can't even order food at a restaurant without Anya giving her the girlfriend-talk. Literally at every nice girl that walks by, Anya is the one staring at her back after she passed us and silently fangirls about how good Lexa and that strange girl would look together. She means well but Lexa is getting SO tired of it. And after all this time, she must know now that love at first sight isn't Lexa's thing, right? Though, Anya never seems to mind and just continues.  
"Don't even bother," Lexa warns her. "It's not going to happen."  
"Why not?" Anya sighs and pounts her lips. With a little nudge of her head, she takes care of a loose strand of hair that has been dangling in front of her face the entire time, which reveals her dissapointed glare. That gaze is also part of her plan. Because everytime Lexa refuses, she looks at her like a lost little puppy, trying to make me pity her. Like I could ever see Anya as a lost puppy when I know whas she damage she can do to her opponent. She'll literally rip your throat out with her teeth if you don't want your ass.  
"We've talked about this," Lexa says, not in the mood for a conversation like this. Now she gets why she wanted her to loosen up a little bit. She either wants me to open up or agree on her plan to match me with Clarke or basically every other person that's intrested. Anya would just go up to Clarke's front door and ask her out in my place if I agreed on it. Not that that's ever going to happen.  
"Yes, okey, we have talked about this," she admits. "But I want to open the subject again. It's time, Lexa. It's been three years since-"  
"Since what," I suddenly snarl. Anya looks me dead in the eye for a few moments, considering her options whether to continue talking or drop the subject. Lexa stares back, angry because she almost brought up her name.  
After a few seconds, Anya looks down to her shoes and sighs.  
"It's been three years since Costia, Lexa," she continues, softer and more careful this time, less straight to the point. More like a real friend that generally cares about her loss. She forms a fist with her hand and clenches her jaw.  
"So what?" I answer snippy.  
Anya puts her wine glass down so she can place her hand on Lexa's shoulder. She still refuses to look at her friend, angry that she brought up Costia. That's so low. It's really so low. It just isn't fair and Anya knows it.  
"Lexa, it's time to move on from her," she says, almost in a whisper.  
"I already am, Anya. You know I am," Lexa replies, as she tries to swallow back her emotions. She can't start crying. Like Anya said, it's been three years. She should've been over Costia a long time ago. She should have been...  
Anya softly shakes her head, with a whisp of a smile on her face.  
"You're strong, Lexa. And you could've moved on the second we found her, I know you could've. Because-"  
"Yes, because love is a weakness, I know," Lexa growls. "I know because you've told me what? About a hundred times? More?"  
"I did," Anya confesses. "But you haven't moved on. Why is that?"  
When Lexa doesn't answer, Anya sighs. She rubs the back of her neck with her hand and thinks for a second.  
"I've seen your strength Lexa, and I'm still sorry about Costia, you know that, but your pain has lasted long enough. It's time," she says.

Lexa looks down and remembers the night when she found out about her lover's death.

It had been late at night, she had been exhausted. That afternoon, Costia's mother had ringed her up. Oblivious to the serious tone of her girlfriend's mother, Lexa had asked if there was something wrong, not knowing what happened. It had been silent for a few moments, but then Costia's mum burst out in tears, explaining what happened. That afternoon, Costia had been hit by a truck. People who found her called the cops, but as soon as the ambulance arrived at the hospital, the docters stated that there was nothing to be done. Her skull was bashed in and it had ended her life, luckily painless. Lexa had been quiet for a while until Costia's mother eventually hung up the phone. Lexa had wanted to say something. She wanted to reassure her, to tell her that everything was gonna be alright. But how do you assure a mother who just lost her child that things were gonna be okey again? They wouldn't become okey, they would never be okey anymore. Because that woman just lost her only child, she would never get her back. Her father would never get Costia back. Her mother would never get Costia back. And neither would Lexa.  
For the first half hour, Lexa was numb. It was like her mind was somewhere different than her body was. Like she was somewhere high up the sky, looking down, unable to feel any regret or sorry because she simply didn't know the people who sufferent down there. But then the realisation had hit her and she was ripped apart.

The very same evening Anya came over. It was like she sensed something had been wrong, because without a word, she sat down next to Lexa. She didn't wrap her arms around her, neither spoke or reassured her. She just was there and that company was enough. Lexa had let her face rest on Anya's lap and cried. Lexa might've never cried as much in her life when she did then. Her whole body had ached. Her muscles were sore from clenching. And her heart... Lexa never felt something so horrible. It had felt like somebody stabbed her repeatedly in the chest, at every sob again. But she didn't bleed to death, which made the pain worse and worse.

Eventually, deep at night, it faded. The cries slowly became less and less loud and painful. Slowly, she was crying in silence. Despite that there were still tears running over her cheeks, her the painstabs became less painfull and came less often. After hours and hours of crying her body was too tired to go on, it needed rest. Anya was still there, saying nothing until Lexa was ready to talk herself and explain what happened. Anya had looked into her eyes when she was done and petted her head for a second or two, then spoke the same words she has just said:  
"I'm sorry about Costia, Lexa," Anya had said. "I've seen your strength. You will get over the pain."  
The words had stayed with Lexa for quite a long time. She remembered them when she visited Costia's parents. She remembered them attending her funeral. She remembered them while she spoke on her funeral, since her parents wanted her to say something. The whole speech had felt unreal and emotionless. Her head had been cloudy and she had barely even noticed what she was talking about. It felt like somebody else had taken her body over at that moment, because the real Lexa, the mourning Lexa, was buried somewhere deep in her chest, like a beast. She was released every time she came home, but around other people, it was dragged to its cage again and locked until she was alone again.

Anya had once mentioned that Lexa had never been the same after her death. Lexa hadn't minded, everybody changed, right? But she knew that the Lexa before Costia's death would've minded. It made her wonder if she really had changed so much. At that point in her life, she decided she simply didn't care anymore.  
Still, whenever somebody mentions Costia's name, Lexa's heart clenches, like it remembers the stabs from that one night and all that nights that came after. It was Lexa's least favorite subject and she currently despides Anya for bringing it up again. No way that she was gonna let that happen to someone else, and to herself, again after Costia. No freaking way.

Lexa snaps back into reality when Anya hands her her glass of wine. She takes it, but doesn't take a sip. The empty, fuzzy kind of feeling that entered her body has luckily faded. Usually she wouldn't mind, but now Anya has adressed a serious subject that is her love life, she rather stays sober.  
"I don't want to, Anya," Lexa simply says, without looking at her best friend. Anya raises her eyebrows questioningly.  
"Why not?" she asks. "Are you afraid? Because what happened to Costia wasn't-"  
"I don't want to talk about Costia," snaps Lexa back. "Just drop it already."  
The brunette jerks her head up and points her chin into the air. Anya's brown eyes squint a bit. Lexa looks back. She has learned a long time ago that when you turn your eyes to the ground, you've lost the battle already. Especially if Anya's involved. She has to stay strong, and so she does. Without flinching the girls eye eachother for a few seconds. Eventually, Anya's eyes relax and she smiles; the eye-fight is over.  
"Okey, what if we make a deal?" Anya offers, her voice soft and gentle. It's been only a few times I've heard her talk so quietly, so careful. It immediately raises awareness that I should carefully think of my answer on her deal. Still, she nods towards the blonde. Anya pulls up the right corner of her mouth a slightest bit into a lopsided smirk, which looks almost smug, and then puts her glass down.  
"What if you go up to Clarke and-"  
An irritated sigh escapes Lexa's mouth before Anya can even finish her sentence.  
"No, no wait, hear me out," she says quickly. Lexa takes a deep gulp of air and lets it slowly escape through her nose before nodding. Anya smiles. "So, you go up to Clarke and really try to become friends. Because seriously, Lexa, it isn't healthy to stay hidden inside for so long. And because you won't open up to me, you might as well do it to her, yeah?"  
Lexa rolls her eyes and shakes her head. To be honest, Clarke looked not really comfertable. Not afraid, a bit intrested, but defenitely uncomfertable. The intimidated, frightened looks people gave her always amuse Lexa, even though it is her intention to scare the crap out of them.

She doesn't remember why and when anymore, but at a certain age she became so pissed at basically everybody. Every time people, mostly male strangers, would just get up to her, touch her butt, wink or give her longing looks that made her cheeks colour tomato red. She was still little, back then, just a teen. Teens don't know what to do if a grown man walks over to them and persuades you to save his number in your phone so you could call him sometime. Back then, Lexa was still vulnerable.

Until one evening when she laid in bed. Random thoughts had been running through her mind, mostly memories from that day or the days before. She was thinking about that guy, the one who wanted her to have his number. Back then her body had been numb, she had been paralyzed with shock. But now she actually had time to think, she noticed how angry she was at the guy for just harassing her right on the street, visable for other people. What desperate, lonely man would target a 16-year-old? The more the thought about it, the angrier the got, which eventually led her to making a crucial decision. Lexa would never let another man touch her without her permission. She would never let someone talk to her without her approval. Never would she agree to something or someone because they're bigger or stronger.

From that day on, Lexa took care of herself. She immediately started her selfdefense classes and signed up for karate lessons. YouTube videos have been very handy to get along with her katana, which wasn't only a decoration but something to defend herself if she had to. She started to work on her body, going more often to the sportscenter to work out, especially on her muscles. Also every morning a run of at least a quarter to wake her up and keep her fit and healthy.  
In a few months time, she had become an experienced fighter, ready to take every dirty man down that even looked at her the wrong way. She wasn't the vulnerable girl anymore. Well, at least less than she was a while ago. Slowly, Lexa had transformed herself into almost another human being. The soft layer of sweetness was gone and was replaced by a hard shell of titanium which was almost unbreakable. The smile that had usually laid on her lips was gone most of the time. Her face now usually showed an emotionless expression, although there was a hint of arrogance in her gaze whenever she laid it on people. Lexa wasn't an arrogant girl, not at all, but arrogance kept other people away from her, so it had became her most used look. Mostly at men, though. She wasn't afraid of women, she actually cherised them. Because even at the age of 16, she had known that ladies had a soft spot in her heart. Men, on the other hand, didn't, so they were kept at an as far as possible distance until they had proven theirselves worthy of her time and her smile.

Back then, Lexa wasn't as closed as she was now. She was still able and willing to give people a chance to win her heart. That's basically how she ended up with Costia. But after her death, everything got worse. The friends who she confided in because just... people. They were her friends and she still had fun with them, of course, but big secrets were kept secret. And she basically didn't even have any secrets anymore. After Costia her life just became dull. Lexa went to college, did her homework, worked, went to the gym and then went to bed, every day again. Anya of course had known that there was something wrong, but she never pushed it, which Lexa was grateful for. Indra and Gustus neither had, but she was never as close with them as she was with Anya.  
At that moment her motives uncounsiously changed slightly. It was like her hard shell, her little wall, was strengthened to keep everyone out. Including her friends, including Anya. She was angry. At everyone, all the time. It felt like the angriness never left her body and could never leave. After a while it changed again and the angriness turned into emotionless. The look that has been in her eyes for about a year has become reality now, infiltrating her body like toxic. She didn't feel anymore. It was like everything was shut down and her body went on automatic mode, doing stuff without thinking or feeling. It was peaceful, yes it was, but terribly boring. It kept people at a distance. Because even if she wanted to share her feelings, she just couldn't.

And neither could she now. She just couldn't explain to Anya what it was like to move on. To make a choice and really move on from the girl she has loved for two years.

Lexa snaps back into reality when Anya clears her throat. Her friend eyes her a bit suspiciously, trying to figure out what was going on with the other girl, but after a second or two, she shakes her head. Anya sighs and stays quiet for a moment. For a second Lexa wanted to tell Anya. About everything, literally everything that has been going on these past few years. She wanted Anya to look through her facade. But on the other side, she has to remind herself that this is what she wanted. She didn't want anybody to ever fool around with her emotions again, she wanted to hide them and conceal them for special people. Her facade is working perfectly, so why break it while there is no necessarity to?

Lexa raises an eyebrow questioningly, doubting what to say, not sure what to choose. She has to answer something.

She doesn't feel the need to become friends with Clarke, not really. Of course Anya's right though. Two years alone is long with just Anya as her friend. Indra and Gustus are friends as well, but Gustus is more like an uncle and she's not even that close with Indra. She barely speaks with them. One of the reasons is because they live quite far away. Clarke only a minute. And there was some little spark though. Clarke was the first person to look genuinely intrested in her even though they just met and even though the rumours she has probably heard. Clarke is the first one to not immediately label her as scary and intimidating. It felt good to be treated good. Maybe Anya's right... But then again, she first needed to know what the other part of the deal was before she could either agree or disagree.

"What's in it for me?" Lexa asks, lowering her eyebrow again.  
"I'll leave you alone," Anya answers.  
This sets Lexa a bit off, not sure what to think of it. She'll leave her alone? Will Anya leave? The thought of her lifelong friend leaving her placed fear in her body. Anya must've noticed the sudden change of air, because she places her hand reassuring on Lexa's.  
"I'll leave your sex life alone," her friend grins. "Don't worry, how can I leave you?"  
"Oh, shut up, Anya," Lexa sighs, eye-rolling. Anya chuckles and bends back, taking her glass in her hand again.  
"So what's it gonna be?"she asks, not bothered by the small insult.

It takes Lexa a few moments to answer the question, rerunning through all the options again. If she says no, Anya will be on her back for quite a while until she finds new friends or a girlfriend on her own. If she says yes, Anya might become even more annoying than before because she'll want a constant update on how stuff are going between her and Clarke. But then again, Clarke seems like a good candidate for a new friend. Not as closen off as her current friends are. Probably bubbly enough to make her laugh, but she's not loud enough to piss her off with the constental laughter. And she has shown interest in the girl as well. Clarke would do.  
Lexa eventually takes a big gulp of wine and waits for her throat to stop burning before she answers.  
"Okey, then. We've got a deal."


End file.
